


Wedding Morning

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hair Braiding, Rumours, Wedding Preparations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the morning of Turgon's wedding to Elenwë, but his siblings won't let their brother get married and leave them behind that easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Morning

Turukáno was running  _late._

Turukáno was never late for  _anything_ , let alone such a momentous occasion as his own wedding. He paced across his room, his eyes roaming over the familiar furniture as his mind flicked through all the preparations that he may have forgotten. Meanwhile his fingers scrabbled to get the knots out of his slightly damp hair, at least well enough to force it into braids with some semblance of neatness.

Tying off a braid distractedly with silver ribbon and seizing a handful of his hair for the next one, he cursed as he struck his shin on the corner of his bed, dropping the beginnings of the braid. Then he heard a muffled giggle from outside the door followed by a quiet murmur of voices. He scowled as he recognised the voice of his younger brother. 

“Arakáno!” he shouted at the wood panels. “Go away! Go get ready!”

“I am ready!” protested Arakáno, “or very nearly! We just came to see if - ”

But then the door burst open, revealing Findekáno, holding his harp. “ _Turukánooooooo!_ ” he sang, plucking a few chords. “We’ve come to see you before you are wrested from the clutches of your siblings forever!”

Turukáno raised an eyebrow at his brother. “And you brought your harp?”

“Damn right I brought my harp!’ said Findekáno, grinning. “Why would I ever not bring my harp?” 

“Also” said Irissë, bustling into the room from behind Findekáno, “we thought we’d see how you were faring this fine morning. Nervous? Ready to marry Elenwë?”

“Well, of course, but - ”

“Lies, Turno. I can see that you’re not  _really_  ready.”

“What?”

“You haven’t finished braiding your hair” said Irissë.

“Neither have I!” piped up Arakáno from behind them. “Irissë broke a comb on it!”

Irissë sighed. “It’s true.” She poked Arakáno in the arm. “This one is all wild hair and long, skinny limbs lately. He’s like a clumsy baby tree.”

Turukáno ignored them, interrupting Arakáno’s outraged protest. “I’m fine. I’m nearly done. Can’t you all just get out of here for a moment?”

Everyone ignored him. “I need to braid my hair too” said Irissë. “It’s already curling up in the heat.” She plucked at the high collar of her formal Vanyarin-style gown with distaste. “Finno, Arko, promise me neither of you will ever get married to a member of the Vanyarin nobility so I don’t have to wear one of these awful things again.”

“I can probably manage to avoid it” said Findekáno with a wink and smile.

“I’m not making any promises!” huffed Arakáno. He looked back at Turukáno appraisingly. “Turno, your buttons are all done up wrong. Your collar is askew. Here, let me - ”

Turukáno swore again and swatted Arakáno’s hands away. “For Eru’s sake, I’m going to be a  _husband_! I can do it myself!”

“My, my, Turno, you are foul-mouthed this morning” said Irissë, trying not to laugh. “Stressed?”

“More so because you’re all here” said Turukáno, as Findekáno began a lullaby on the harp. “ _Stop that!_  And Arko and Irissë, please do something about your hair before the wedding.  _Control it._ ”

“ _You_  have the nerve to tell  _me_ …” Arakáno scowled. “Just because you’re the only one who inherited grandfather Finwë’s straight, silky hair…”

“Ignore him Arko. Curly is clearly better” said Irissë, shrugging. “Findekáno seems to be able to braid it every day, absolutely fine.” They all contemplated Findekáno’s hair, which was already tightly and intricately braided with thin golden ribbons as usual, as well as a liberal sprinkling of tiny gold and sapphire beads he seemed to have added especially for the occasion.

“Practice!” said Findekáno, flicking his braids over his shoulder. He stared around. “You’re all looking at me to fix this aren’t you?” He sighed, feigning resignation. “Alright, after Turno, it’s Arko’s turn. Turno, would you braid Irissë’s? And can I borrow your brush?”

“Findekáno, I can really manage - ”

“Nonsense. You don’t  _look_  like you’re managing very well yourself. In fact you look quite the frazzled mess that you are. Besides, it’s the last day when we can all do this together” he smiled, putting his harp carefully on the shelf and pushing Turukáno gently down to sit on the bed.

“No it’s not!” said Turukáno, despite feeling inexplicably sad, “I’ll still come back and visit!”

“Yes… but it won’t be the same” said Irissë as Turukáno carded his fingers through her hair, “I wish you and Elenwë well, of course I do. But it will be strange not having you around the house. Finno and Arko just aren’t as easy to aggravate.”

“Finno” said Arakáno in a stage whisper. “Did Irissë just imply that she’ll _miss_  Turno?”

“Wonders never cease.” Findekáno hummed as he worked on Turukáno’s braids, twisting in the lengths of silver ribbon that lay on the table. “All finished” he said at last, settling Turukáno’s elaborate silver and ruby wedding circlet amongst the braids and patting his brother on the crown of the head. Turukáno looked in the mirror and felt himself smile, turning his head backwards and forwards, his hair glimmering in the morning light. “Thank you, Finno!”

Findekáno had already started tugging at Arakáno’s hair with a comb, their youngest brother gritting his teeth to bite back a shriek.

“So, how long do you think the braids will last after the wedding?” Irissë was grinning at Turukáno in the mirror. “Will you and Elenwë wait around and talk to the relatives for a while, or is it straight out to that big fancy suite in the palace? Or will it be the bushes for you two…?”

“Irissë!” Findekáno hit Irissë on the arm with the flat back of the hairbrush. “Don’t spoil this for Turno!” he smirked. “Besides, if any of us get to embarrass Turno today it’s me, since I was at the groom’s party last week.”

“Yes, what happened then?” said Arakáno curiously. “I still think I should have been allowed to come!”

Turukáno grimaced, patting Arakáno on the arm. “No, in retrospect it’s good that you didn’t come.” He suddenly smiled sweetly at Findekáno. “Anyway, Finno, as far as embarrassing stories are concerned, I think I’ve got as much on you as you have on me. What would dear Maitimo say? I seem to remember that some nudity was involved…” He grinned at Findekáno’s squawk of protest and attempts to gag him with a length of ribbon. “Let’s call it equal shall we?”

“Seems like a good arrangement” said Findekáno, passing a hand over his face. “I trust your memory better than mine brother, which makes me all the more wary of you. Not that Maitimo would mind” he smiled, going back to brushing out Arakáno’s wet hair. “He knows I love him beyond all reason. Besides” he pinned the back of Arakáno’s hair up, “I think we can all agree that the funniest thing to come out of that night was Findaráto drinking all that  _miruvórë_  and dancing half-naked on the table with those Telerin sailors we met…”

“Lest we forget” said Turukáno, smiling vaguely. “He was trying to impress them by telling them that he was ‘ _a beloved favourite of the Lord of Waters’_. I think they mistook his meaning somewhat.”

Arakáno snorted. “What if I got married just to generate embarrassing stories about my friends and relations…?”

“Well it won’t work on Turno!” said Findekáno. “He’ll be a married man within the day, and thus supposed to be respectable. Maybe even a father after not too long!”

“Well…” said Turukáno, looking slightly nervous. “That is the idea, I suppose… I mean, I love Elenwë…” his voice caught in his throat with emotion at that, “…and we both want - ”

“Yes, yes, yes, love and babies. I’m sure we’ll hear all about it at the ceremony. But anyway, on the off chance you change your mind, I’d gladly marry Elenwë instead” said Irissë with a smirk, causing Turukáno to yank on one of her braids. “Ah! Calm down, Turno!” She smiled a little. “Although, now I think I shall just reminisce to myself about what happened at Elenwë’s bride’s party…  _Ai!_  Stop it!”

“Irissë” said Findekáno, “…possibly bad timing…?”

“Bad timing? How could it possibly be a bad time to inform my sweet brother that his soon-to-be-wife and I - ”

“Irissë,  _I will pull your hair out_ ” said Turukáno.

“He means it” said Arakáno.

“Alright! Alright!” she smiled innocently as Turkáno finished the last of her braids. “Give my regards to Elenwë though” she winked at him.

“And where will you be?”

Irissë gave him a look. “Why, where do you think? At the food and drinks table of course. Arko and I have important plans to take advantage of the buffet and then get gloriously drunk, don’t we little brother?”

Findekáno looked affronted. “And why was I not included in these plans?”

Arakáno shrugged. “We figured you would be fucking Maitimo in a cupboard somewhere before the reception was even half done.”

“Charming of you” said Findekáno, rolling his eyes, but there was a slight, dreamy smile on his face “…potentially accurate though… I like the way you think…”

“Spare me” said Turukáno. “And I feared  _I_  would be one at risk of bringing shame upon the house of Ñolofinwë, by botching the vows in the sight of the Valar or something like that.”

“Don’t worry” said Findekáno, standing up and clapping Turukáno on the shoulder. He picked up his harp. “As far as embarrassing ourselves is concerned, I think the three of us can outshine you any day, Turno.”

“That’s right” said Arakáno. “We’ve got you covered, Turno. Now let’s go out and face the mass of Vanyarin extended-family-in-law.”

Turukáno looked around at his siblings, standing shoulder to shoulder before him as though reporting for duty. “Everyone’s hair is done? Everyone’s clothes are on right?” He hesitated. “Do I look alright?”

“You look wonderful, Turno” said Irissë, standing on her tiptoes to hug him. “Take it from us.”

 


End file.
